


Dating Potters

by GoldenTruth813, Mzuul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albus loves Hoodies, Art, Awkward Conversations, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Confessions, Digital Art, Drarry & Jeddy & Scorbus, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Family Dinners, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation, Holding Hands, Humor, Illustrated, Innuendo, Love, M/M, POV Scorpius Malfoy, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Secret Relationship, Tattoos, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mzuul/pseuds/Mzuul
Summary: Scorpius and Albus have been together for awhile now and decide it's time to have a family dinner and come out to their fathers. What they're not counting on is the fact that they're not the only ones with secrets to share. A story in which innuendos are made, hoodies are worn, secrets are revealed, and Albus hides under the table, though not necessarily in that order.





	Dating Potters

**Author's Note:**

> This collab was so much fun! Major props to mzuul for her amazing artwork!
> 
> All the thanks to aibidil for the beta! <3

The moment Scorpius steps through the Floo it becomes readily apparent that, despite Albus’s earlier assurances that he was not nervous about tonight’s dinner and would be perfectly fine if Scorpius went to have afternoon tea with his grandmother, Albus is clearly not fine.

The wireless is blasting something obnoxiously loud from the kitchen—definitely James’s doing, since he seems to have no sense of volume control whatsoever—and there are bits of clothing scattered around the apartment, thrown over the sofa and the back of the kitchen chairs and even a pair of rather garish boxers with a flashing Seeker logo on the arse that definitely do _not_ belong to Albus.

“Albus?” he queries loudly, trying in vain to be heard over the music as he makes his way down the corridor, stepping over several mismatched pairs of shoes, most of which he knows belong to Albus and at least two pairs that he’s never seen before but thinks must be James’s—if only because they are garishly neon and he’s positive Albus would die before wearing anything that particular shade of orange. Of course, identifying where the clothing has come from does nothing to help Scorpius understand why the flat looks like one of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ newest exploding toffee tornadoes went off.

The mess of clothing only gets worse the closer he gets to Albus’s room, and he steps over a large pile of old school robes and ties he hadn’t even realized Albus had kept in order to get into Albus’s room. Only the boring half of Albus’s body is visible since the other half is hidden beneath his bed. James is sitting on the floor in the corner in nothing but his boxers, chomping on a piece of red licorice and looking as calm as usual. 

“Cinnamon roll, you’re here!” James says happily, shooting him a wink before popping his last piece of licorice into his mouth. Scorpius tries not to blush at the nickname, knowing if he does Albus will get in a row with James over it and try to get him to stop. Scorpius usually tries not to think too much about why he likes being embarrassed by James. Maybe because he never had any siblings growing up, or maybe because it makes him feel a bit more like part of Albus’s family, like he’s part of the family for who he is and not just because Albus cares about him. Either way James’s recent trend of refusing to use Scorpius’s name and making up a new nickname for him every hour is something that Scorpius rather likes, even if it does embarrass him more times than not. He likes to think if he had a sibling they might treat him the way James now treats him—with fond exasperation and a desire to embarrass him.

“Ow! Fuck!” Albus yells at the same time Scorpius hears a thump. He winces in sympathy. “Scorpius is here?” Albus shouts, wriggling out from beneath his bed. “Hey, Scorp,” he says with a pained smile, still rubbing the back of his head. 

Albus, too, is in nothing but his boxers and his hair looks particularly ruffled, the usual swoop sticking up at an awkward angle, a bit like it had when Scorpius had fucked him from behind last week, his finger’s lacing into Albus’s hair a bit tighter than usual when Albus had whispered, “You can pull it if you want,” his face pressed into his folded arms, voice quiet but words clear. Scorpius hadn’t been able to see the expression on his face, of course, but if the flush that had spread across the back of Albus’s neck after he said the words had been any indication then Scorpius knew Albus didn’t just think it was okay for Scorpius to pull his hair, he’d _wanted_ him to do it. 

“You okay there, Scorpy? Need a cold shower?” James laughs, chucking a piece of licorice at Scorpius.

“Leave him alone, you wanker,” Albus grunts, grabbing the pillow off his bed and sending it sailing towards James. It hits him in the face, making him drop his package of sweets, pieces of brightly colored licorice cascading to the floor in a shower of surprise. James’s mouth falls open in shock and Scorpius has only a few seconds to take in the quiet meep Albus makes before James is on his knees and then across the room and sitting on top of Albus, straddling his stomach and pinning Albus’s hands to his side.

“Surrender or face the consequences,” James tells him quite seriously.

Albus grunts, trying to roll James off him but failing. “Get the fuck off me.”

“Not a chance. So do you surrender?”

Albus juts his chin out defiantly. “Not a fucking chance in hell.”

Scorpius has seen this scene play out enough times to know exactly what's about to happen, and while Albus and James’s antics are often as amusing as they are confusing, Scorpius also knows they have absolutely no time for their game of “ _which Potter will end up on top”_ if they’re going to get to the restaurant in time to meet their parents. Or their dads, anyway. Scorpius and Albus had agreed it might be best to tell each set of parents separately, since both their parents had separated last year. Tonight was dinner with their fathers, who were friendly now, and next week was tea with Astoria and brunch with Ginny. 

“James, can you help me fix my tie?” Scorpius blurts out suddenly, discreetly grabbing the wand in his pocket and undoing the tie around his neck. 

Albus shoots him a curious look as James releases Albus’s hands and shrugs, rising to stand and walking towards him with an easy grace. “Sure thing, baby bro.”

Scorpius smiles as James walks over, reaching for his tie and flipping the bottom over the top and re-adjusting it until it honestly looks straighter than it had when he’d arrived. Albus has his hands folded behind his head watching them curiously from the floor, a familiar knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Scorpius licks his bottom lip, sending Albus a soft smile that Albus is slow to return, but when he does his face is transformed, the tension bleeding away. 

“There, much better,” James says in a self-satisfied tone, clapping Scorpius on the back as he moves around him towards the open door. “I better go get dressed. Wouldn’t want everyone at the restaurant to want to eat me for dinner instead.” He shoots Scorpius a wink on his way out and Albus makes a loud gagging noise in response.

“Your tie was fine when you got here,” Albus laughs, finally climbing up off the floor and standing in front of Scorpius. The tension seeps out of his body as Scorpius reaches out to tangle one hand in Albus’s hair and places the other one on his hip.

“Yeah well, someone had to save you from James.”

Albus chews on his bottom lip, looking pleased. “My big, brave Slytherin saviour.”

Scorpius knows Albus is joking, mostly, but something swells in him at those words all the same, something overwhelmingly profound—a desire to protect Albus, to be what he wants, to be what he _needs_. 

“So, what's with all the clothes?” he asks, nodding his head towards the disarray, because if he says the other thing he’s thinking, he’s pretty sure they won't make it to dinner with their fathers.

A red flush spreads across Albus’s face as he hunches his shoulders. “I can’t find my hoodie. The, um—” He blows out a breath, leaning forward and resting his forehead on Scorpius’s. “You know which one.”

Scorpius’s cheeks warm. Of course he knows what hoodie Albus is looking for. The soft grey one Scorpius had given him for his sixteenth birthday, the one with a pair of entwined snakes going down one arm that Albus has worn so many times there’s a hole in one wrist. The hoodie he was wearing the first time Scorpius ha’d mustered all of his courage and pressed his lips to Albus’s. The hoodie Albus had been wearing the first time Scorpius had made him come, quick and desperate and half dressed—the hood had still been over Albus’s head, his hair peeking out and his thumb shoved through the hole as he’d whimpered Scorpius’s name and come the second Scorpius’s cold fingers had wrapped around his cock.

“It’s under the sofa,” Scorpius answers easily.

“Under the— _oh_ ,” Albus grins, and Scorpius sees the moment Albus remembers what they were doing that resulted in Albus’s hoodie hidden safely under the sofa and the rest of his clothing effectively Vanished to Merlin knows where. James had been out for a pub night with Teddy that night—though Scorpius strongly suspects they never made it to the pub, if the way Teddy’d been with James before they Disapparated, hands and mouth attached to every inch of James’s skin he could reach, which, considering it was James, had been a fair bit—and they’d put their time alone to very, very good use. 

“Thanks,” he breathes, giving Scorpius a quick kiss on the mouth before hopping over the pile of clothes beside him and heading towards the living room. 

When Albus returns a few minutes later, Scorpius is sitting on his bed with his legs tucked underneath him, flipping through Albus’s copy of _Salacious Slytherins: The True Lives of Britain’s Most Infamous Wizards_. Albus is wearing the jeans Scorpius had seen on the kitchen table and the infamous hoodie, though the thing he’s wearing that Scorpius likes the most is his smile.

“So how about we skip dinner?” Albus suggests hopefully, prying the book from Scorpius’s hands and dropping it to the floor as he presses him back against the unmade bed. And _fuck,_ the sheets smell like Albus, and Albus is above him looking soft and open in a way Scorpius knows only he gets to see, and Scorpius really, really wants to stay right here forever.

“We can’t,” Scorpius whispers against Albus’s mouth, cursing the day he’d insisted it was time he and Albus finally came out as a couple to their father’s. Despite his protest, Scorpius’s hands are already slipping beneath the back of Albus’s hoodie to rest at the base of his spine, drawing circles there with his thumb and forefinger and waiting for the exact moment Albus will react. He isn’t disappointed. Almost immediately Albus chokes out a whimper, shoving his face into Scorpius’s neck and rutting against him like Scorpius knew he would, like he always does, as if every touch from Scorpius is electric. The way Albus reacts to him makes Scorpius feel heady, powerful, but mostly like he wants to be the one to make Albus happy for the rest of his life.

The rock of Albus’s hips is painfully slow and Scorpius hates himself a bit for starting something they can’t finish, because the memory of Albus’s open-mouthed kisses at his neck as he begs for more is going to make it damn near impossible for Scorpius to look at his father with a straight face tonight. 

“Scorp, want you,” Albus begs, hands on Scorpius’s tie, trying to undo the complicated knot.

“As much as this vision of teenage affection is endearing, if you two don’t keep your clothing on we’re never making it to dinner. Honestly, and you had the nerve to call me horny last week, meanwhile you two are at it like fucking blast-ended skrewts in heat.”

[](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/440679979236327428/452284998456967189/image.jpg)

Ever since James had turned twenty a few months ago he'd taken to calling them teenagers at every opportunity, something that seemed to drive Albus absolutely mental—which Scorpius had tried to tell him on more than one occasion was probably why James did it—though Scorpius usually found it fairly amusing, since he was certain he and Albus were more mature than James. Of course it is decidedly less amusing now, since Scorpius’s hands are still in Albus's trousers and instead of leaving, James is getting closer. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Albus squeaks when James yanks a shirt out from beneath them. 

“Looking for my shirt, obviously. I know being a teenager in love is distracting, but—”

“Fucking leave already!” Albus groans, his hands still fisted in Scorpius’s tie. 

James, however, just winks at Scorpius, pulling the shirt on over his head and leaning back against the doorframe and watching them.

Albus seems to realize James is not, in fact, leaving and sighs, releasing Scorpius’s tie and moving to stand up. Scorpius feels the loss immediately, the ache in his chest growing as Albus’s bare feet pad across the room. 

Scorpius had thought being with Albus, being with him properly—not just as a friend, but as a lover—would've made things easier. But if anything Scorpius finds it nearly impossible to stop touching Albus now that he can. The few months before they'd taken their friendship to the next level had been like torture because Scorpius hadn't been sure if he could live not knowing what Albus tasted like, what he sounded like when he came, or what it felt like to press inside his body. Only now, he knows and it’s a hundred times worse because he wants it all, _forever_ , and he’s terrified of overwhelming Albus with the reality of his feelings—with the fact that, at eighteen, Scorpius knows Albus is it for him, knows he will never love anyone else. When he isn’t with Albus, he wants to be, and when he is, he never wants to leave. It is fucking exhilarating and terrifying and Scorpius is smart enough to know the reason he wants to tell their parents is because he feels an unexplainable need to claim Albus as his own.

Scorpius had never been a possessive person, and yet as the months went on, the idea that people didn’t know Albus was his, was his everything, have made him feel twitchy and off balance. He’s tired of his grandmother asking if he will settle down now that he is a grown Wizard, or his dad not-so-subtly asking if he might ever have use for some of the Malfoy family heirlooms, which Scorpius knows means engagement jewellery. Of course, once it’s out, his dad might just change tune and offer the jewellery for him to marry Albus—and truthfully he isn’t sure he wants to get married ever, but that certainly doesn’t mean he still doesn’t want Albus forever.

“Because you told me not to let you be late!” James yells, startling Scorpius from his musings.

Albus looks annoyed, his hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie and his jaw clenched. Scorpius wonders if it is normal to think someone who looks that annoyed is adorable. He rather thinks Albus looks like an angry Kneazle that needs a bit of petting. Not that he is going to tell him that.

“You never listen to a word I say. Why are doing it now?” Albus complains.

James’s shoulders fall as he blows out a breath. “This is important, isn’t it? You and Scorp telling Dad and Mr Malfoy. I’m trying to help.”

“Merlin, you’re so fucking annoying,” Albus grumbles. Scorpius isn’t sure who is more shocked, himself or James, in the next moment when Albus throws his arms around James and hugs him. 

Sometimes Albus and James’s relationship baffles Scorpius—the extent to which they sound like they can’t stand each other one second and the next second they act like they’d die for each other. Scorpius sometimes wonders if parents realised what a social disservice it was to have only one child, to send them off into the world unable to understand some of life's most basic but compex social dynamics simply because they’d never been a part of it. He’d always felt somehow older and younger than he was, unable to relate to his peers in the same way everyone else had. He often wondered if it was part of being an only child or part of being a Malfoy.

“Right, so—” Albus mumbles, pulling out of the hug and rubbing at his face awkwardly. 

James grins and ruffles Albus’s hair, effectively putting the usual grumpy glare back on Albus’s face. “Alright sunshine, let’s do this.” Then James turns to Scorpius, offering him the same cheerful smile, and Scorpius feels some of his own nerves dissipate. 

It’s just dinner with their fathers. How badly could it go?

 

****

*******

“Why didn’t you tell me you invited Teddy?” Albus hisses as Albus’s dad makes his way across the room with Teddy, both men laughing about something.

James, however, looks equally surprised. “I didn’t!”

“Well then—” but Albus shuts his mouth the second his dad and Teddy are close enough to hear.

“Hello, boys. Hope you don’t mind, but Teddy was helping me finish up some paperwork on a bit of a sticky case and I invited him along for dinner.” Scorpius wonders why Albus’s dad looks nervous, his smile a little _too_ cheerful and his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. It reminds Scorpius of the way Albus looks when he’s about to tell Scorpius something he isn’t sure he’ll like.

Teddy looks equally unsure, glancing around the table before shooting James a secret smile. It’s only a few seconds before Teddy’s attentions are turned back towards Scorpius and Albus. “I can leave if this is like...a family thing. I don’t want to impose.”

“Of course Teddy can stay,” Albus and Scorpius answer, though it doesn’t escape Scorpius’s notice that Teddy still looks slightly uneasy. He knows the only reason that Albus was put off about Teddy is because it was surprise. Albus likes to control things, especially when he’s nervous, and despite his every protestation that he is not nervous about dinner tonight, Scorpius knows all the signs are there—snapping at James, _hugging_ James, wearing his favorite hoodie, chewing on his bottom lip until it looks almost bruised. 

For all Albus constantly insists he doesn’t care what his dad thinks about him, Scorpius knows he cares a whole lot. Although he can never quite understand why Albus worries so much, since it is pretty obvious that his dad would literally die before hurting his kids. But then Scorpius knows these things aren’t always logical; he knows nothing he can do will change the way his own father feels about him, and yet there has still been something holding him back from telling him. He supposes he and Albus are similar in that way, their desire to control the way things play out. 

“I feel like I never see you boys unless it’s to stop by the house to raid the fridge,” Harry says as he unfastens the buttons on his Auror robe to reveal Muggle clothing beneath—a pair of worn jeans and a rather soft-looking red jumper. Seeing that Harry has removed his robes, Teddy follows suit, though his clothes are simple—a pair of dark skinny jeans and a plain white shirt. It suits him somehow to be dressed so simply when his hair and piercings are anything but. They both drop their robes over the back of their chairs and move to sit, leaving the last empty chair right beside Scorpius for his father.

“Don’t pretend you don’t keep cooking three times as much food as you need just hoping we’ll come around,” James insists. “No single man cooks as much food as you do, Dad.”

Harry shifts imperceptibly. “Who says I’m cooking just for me?” 

“Who the hell are you pulling, Dad?” James says, loud enough that the occupants of the nearest tables turn to stare right as Albus yells, “Dad, are you dating again?”

Harry shifts uncomfortably, rubbing his right hand over his jaw, but is saved from answering by Scorpius’s father arriving exactly seven minutes late, brushing off imaginary lint from his robes—a nervous habit his father picked up years ago—as he nods politely towards Harry and gives a well-bred smile to everyone else. Scorpius is surprised to realise his father has worn his nicest dress robes and can’t help but balk at the realization that he either has an announcement of his own or knows what’s coming. His father only wears that particular set of robes when he wants things to go perfectly. Well _shit_.

“Hello, Malfoy,” Harry greets, rising to stand and holding his hand out. His father’s lip quirks up in the corner as he reaches for Harry’s hand, shaking it firmly before sitting down between Scorpius and Harry.

“Teddy, I didn’t realize you’d be joining us this evening. What a delightful surprise. I dare say the _Prophet_ would have a field day if they could see us now. Lupins and Potters and Malfoys all at one table behaving like civilised adults.”

“Dad,” Scorpius cautions, but Teddy and Harry are already laughing and _oh—_ perhaps he needn't worry about his father’s sense of humour being misunderstood, after all.

“It’s alright, Scorpius. Harry and Teddy know I don’t bite.”

Harry coughs loudly as Scorpius’s eyebrows rise into his fringe. He kicks Albus under the table, and when Albus meets his eyes, he mouths _Harry_ at him.  
Albus shrugs, rolling his eyes before whispering, “Maybe they’re having a mid-life crisis.”

Harry snorts. “I’m not that old, Albus.”

“Still old enough to pull, huh, Dad?” James asks with a wink. 

Scorpius notices his dad’s shoulders tense immediately. “This hardly seems like polite dinner conversation. Especially as I haven’t even had a drink yet.”

“So how about that Puddlemere game on the Wireless last night?” Albus chirps. If anyone is surprised that Albus, of all people, is bringing up Quidditch, they don’t show it. His dad visibly relaxes as does Harry. James leans onto his elbows and begins a very loud and dramatic retelling of the hallway point when the Kenmare Kestral’s had lost their Keeper. It’d been a slaughter after that. Or so James keeps loudly saying. Teddy just grins, eyes fixed on James as if it is the most interesting story he’s ever heard—as if he hadn’t been at their flat just last night listening to the match way too loudly with James.

Scorpius doesn’t really care about the game, but he is grateful for the distraction as he tries to rein in his nerves, only vaguely aware of ordering the same thing to drink as his dad and trying and failing not to laugh when Albus snorts and whispers, “Okay Lord Malfoy, you want some escargot with that wine?”

It’s not until their drinks have come and Scorpius is actually sipping his glass of wine that he wishes he’d ordered something else. Beneath the table Albus’s knee presses into his leg. Albus’s hand makes its way atop his thigh just a few seconds later with an encouraging squeeze. 

“Dad, Mr Potter—the thing is. We invited you both to dinner for a reason,” Scorpius begins, words cut off as Albus’s hand moves just a bit higher. He turns to give him a pointed look that has Albus grinning.

His dad clears his throat. “I think Harry and I know what this is about.”

Scorpius startles at that. “What do you mean? How could you possibly know?”

Harry shifts, reaching for his Guinness and taking a long drink before speaking. “I suppose it was silly to think people wouldn’t know, but—”

Albus is on the defensive immediately. “It wasn’t silly. It’s our personal business and we don’t have to tell anyone if we don’t want.”

“Wait, what do you mean yours?” Harry asks. 

“Why, what did you mean?” Albus counters.

“Right, if we’re playing a game of which Potter backs down first, can we please order the food first? I’m fucking starving and I’d rather not wait for Dad and Albus to see who can out-stubborn the other one,” James says easily, reaching for menu and ignoring the dirty look Albus gives him.

Scorpius’s stomach is in knots and he can’t imagine having to wait until the food comes to do this, so without thinking things through, the second the waiter shows up asking if they’re ready, Scorpius’s mouth falls open as he blurts, “Yes, I’m ready! Albus and I are together!”

The waiter doesn’t miss a beat, smiling as if the entire thing isn’t the most awkward ever on the planet. “Do you young sirs need anything to celebrate this wondrous occasion? Is it an anniversary? An engagement?”

“For the love of Merlin, please don’t tell me you’re engaged?” his dad blurts out.

“We’re not engaged, we’re just together. And we have been for, well, for a few months.”

“I’ll just come back in a few minutes,” the waiter says politely, not waiting for an answer before retreating towards the kitchen.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Albus asks suspiciously when Harry only opens his mouth to drink more Guinness.

Harry pauses, wiping his mouth with his napkin before looking at Albus. “I knew. We both knew. Hell, Al, I think even your Grandma Molly knows.”

“Your grandma definitely knows,” his dad adds, taking a large gulp of wine.

“Grandma Narcissa knows?!” Scorpius screeches.

Not to be outdone, Albus puffs out a breath, looking round the table and settling on James, who looks close to tears with silent laughter. “You told them!”

James stops laughing almost immediately. “I bloody well did not! I would never break a promise.” James looks more offended than Scorpius has ever seen him and only calms down when Teddy leans in to whisper something.

“No one told anyone. It was just...well, it was obvious wasn’t it?” Harry looks like he wants to say more but is stopping himself.

Scorpius isn’t sure what he’d expected either of their dads to say. But whatever it was, it wasn’t this.

“And you knew, too?” Scorpius asks his dad, who keeps looking around as if deeply aware he’s being watched, which makes Scorpius appreciate his next words even more. He knows how hard it is for his dad to open up in front of other people.

“Scorpius, you’ve been the bright spot in my life since you were born. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. You think I didn’t know what made you happiest in the world—or I should say, _who_.” And then his dad does the most un-Malfoy-like thing Scorpius has ever seen. He turns to Albus and says, “I assumed you both had your reasons for keeping things quiet, but I must say, I’ve seen the way you love my son, even if you were trying to hide it, and I couldn’t be happier he’s found someone who loves him as much as he deserves.”

Scorpius’s throat tightens, overwhelmed and torn between relief and gratefulness at his father’s easy acceptance and shame for ever having doubted it. Albus seems equally unsure what to say, his fingers having found their way into Scorpius’s hand at some point and holding on tightly.

“So does this mean we can order soon? All of this family bonding is making me hungry,” James chimes in.

Albus snorts loudly. “When the fuck aren’t you hungry?”

“I am a growing lad. Besides, I train hard, I need to eat a lot.”

Teddy, who has been noticeably more reserved than usual, begins to laugh, his face transformed with an easy smile clearly meant for James. “Is that why I caught you eating half the contents of my fridge at two in the morning last week?”

“Why were you at Teddy’s at two in the morning?” Harry asks, watching them intently.

Teddy’s hair begins to turn a rather alarming shade of chartreuse at the tips and James opens and shuts his mouth a few times as if lost for words—a sight Scorpius isn’t sure he’s ever seen.

“The wanker was too drunk to Apparate home and Teddy let him crash. Though it sounds like Teddy’s food supply took the brunt of his hangover,” Albus lies easily. James almost never gets drunk, insisting he doesn’t need alcohol to have more fun than anyone else in the room. 

Scorpius is pretty sure Harry doesn’t believe them from the way he seems to be looking back and forth between Albus and James, but he just smiles all the same. “Good on you for being safe then, James.”

“Wait a minute,” Scorpius interrupts, watching his dad swirl the wine in his glass almost nervously. “If you both knew about us already, then what did you think dinner was for? Why are you wearing your best robes, Dad?”

To his surprise it’s not his dad but Harry who answers first. “Ah, well, about that—the thing is, well I mean, we thought perhaps you knew.”

“Knew what?” Albus asks suspiciously, chewing on his bottom lip.

“That they’re dating, of course,” James says with a straight face, winking at his dad.

Harry, however, doesn't laugh but instead picks up his pint and downs the remainder of it—which is almost the entire thing—in one go while Scorpius’s dad, to Scorpius’s complete shock, reaches out to lie his hand atop Harry’s, running his thumb over the scarred words there in what appears to be a soothing manner.

“No fucking way!” Albus shouts, making several people stare.

James, if possible, yells even louder. “I was taking the piss! Are you fucking serious?” He turns to look at Teddy, who, out of everyone, looks the least surprised by this new revelation. “Oh my god, you knew? What the fuck, Teddy?”

Teddy’s face flushes, splotches of red sprouting up on his cheeks. “I only found out last week and Harry asked me not to say anything.”

All of the little things Scorpius has noticed but dismissed take on an entirely new context as Scorpius watches his dad touch Harry’s hand. His recent father’s insistence that the Potters might not have been as obnoxious as he’d always thought, his easy agreement to tonight’s dinner, his comments about Albus’s hair looking so much like Harry’s. He’d thought his father was simply warming up to the idea of Albus always being around, but perhaps his dad was trying to prepare him for Harry being around. 

“Listen, boys,” Harry begins, but Albus is shaking his head and James looks put out, though Scorpius knows him well enough to know it’s likely because Teddy kept something from him and not at all because of who his dad might be dating.

“I really don’t think we need to talk about this,” Albus interrupts, voice higher than usual. “Whatever you two do is...it’s fine, yeah? We do _not_ need to know anything about it, Dad.”

[](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/440679979236327428/452285044728397827/image.jpg)

At this, James’s pout transforms into a smile and Scorpius barely has time to wonder what he’s thinking before James opens his mouth. “Dad, is this why you bought all new boxers when we went to Diagon Alley last month? Because usually you don’t care when there are holes in the arse.”

Harry makes a choking noise at the same time as Teddy spits out some of his drink, coughing loudly and hissing James’s name, which James pointedly ignores. Scorpius’s own father looks torn between pity for Harry and amusement, and Scorpius is reminded once again how different Albus’s family is from his own, and especially how different James and Harry are from Albus.

Of course, that one inappropriate comment doesn’t seem to be enough for James, who leans on his elbows and directs his gaze at Scorpius’s dad, eyes glinting with mischief. “Mr Malfoy, are you and Dad being safe? Please tell me you’re using the correct protective spells.” His dad’s mouth falls open but before he can answer, James speaks again. “Have you and Dad discussed a safeword? You know Dad has trouble knowing his own limits.” James somehow says this with a serious face. Harry groans and buries his face in his hands and Albus makes a sound next to him that sounds like a wounded erumpent during mating season.

Of course, with James leaning on the table like that, his shirt slips off to one side—and really, Scorpius wonders where the hell James finds shirts that show off so much of his collarbones—and it’s enough to reveal the head of the snake tattoo James got a few weeks ago, the tongue darting out just beneath a smattering of freckles on James’s left collarbone. Scorpius knows he’s not the only one to have noticed it, because Harry’s mouth falls open as he sets down his stout.

“James, what’s that?” 

“I have no idea—” James tries, but Harry shakes his head.

“Oh, Harry, about that case at work,” Teddy starts, but Harry raises an eyebrow at Teddy as if to say _Really?_ and Teddy falls back in his seat mouthing _Sorry_ at James.

“When did you get a tattoo?” Harry questions, and it sounds a lot more like Harry Potter Head Auror than Harry Potter, his boyfriend’s dad who likes to bake muffins on the weekends and always asks if Scorpius is hungry. It’s not that he sounds angry, he just sounds full of authority, which is a bit at odds with the easy demeanor Scorpius usually sees on him.

“Oh I don’t know, Dad. About the same time I became an adult, so a few years ago.” James’s voice drips with sarcasm.

“You’ve had that tattoo for _two years_? Were you Glamouring it away in the summers?”

James’s cheeks flush red. “Ah, no. I’ve had it, well—” But then James stops and looks around the table at everyone watching him and shrugs. “Fuck it,” he adds, pushing away from the table and standing up. To Scorpius’s complete surprise, James shrugs off his leather jacket, drops it on his chair,and reaches behind his head to tug his shirt off in one fell swoop. 

If Scorpius weren’t so fixated on the way Harry’s mouth is opening and shutting rapidly, he’d be commenting on the way Teddy should put his eyes back on his head if he and James don’t want to be caught.

“Right, so this one I got a few weeks ago. It’s for Lily and Albus and I won’t hear a word against it.” James points to the snake head on his chest that continues across the rest of his chest and wraps around his shoulder and continues all the way down his arm, the tail stopping halfway down James’s forearm where it’s curled around a delicate bouquet of lilies. Of course he and Albus had wondered about it—a snake and lillies—it was hard not to guess what it meant. But James had been surprisingly tightlipped about it after getting it, almost embarrassed in a way neither of them were used to. Assuming it was for his siblings and hearing him admit it seem surprisingly different, and Albus clearly feels the same, if his sharp intake of breath is any indication. Scorpius marvels once again at the intense bond the Potter siblings share. 

James doesn’t give Harry a chance to reply, just points down at his hip and the small fluttering Snitch. “I got this one two years ago when I got signed to the Appleby Arrows. This is Teddy’s favourite.” 

“Teddy’s favourite?” Harry mumbles, eyebrows creasing together in confusion. Seeming to realise his slip up, James spins around to reveal the massive tattoos on his back to distract him. The detailed stag horns take up half his back, one on each side of an even bigger tattoo that cascades down James’s entire spine showing off the cycles of the moon. 

“Fucking show off,” Albus grumbles, though the corner of his lip is quirked up in the beginning of a smile and there’s no bite to his words.

James laughs, his entire disposition shifting, an amused grin back on his face as he drops into his chair and throws his arm over Albus’s shoulder. “You have much to learn, Alby.”

Albus snorts, grabbing James’s shirt off the table and shoving it in his face. “Put this back on, you fucking plonker.”

“I love you too, knobhead.”

“Well, that was enlightening,” Scorpius’s dad says smoothly, sipping at his wine and lifting an eyebrow at Harry, who shrugs.

Things go from awkward to really fucking awkward from there. When the waiter finally turns up, no one seems to have any idea what they want to eat, which results in a comedic jump around the table as they flounder their orders. The only thing anyone seems to know for sure is that they need more alcohol—his dad moves on from ordering wine by the glass and now orders an entire bottle, Harry orders two pints instead of one, and after his dad leans in to whisper something to the waiter, the drinks are delivered at record speed and the refills come just as quickly.

Which means that by the time the food actually comes, most of them, save for Scorpius and Teddy, who is surprisingly still nursing his first pint of Guinness and looking back and forth between James and Harry rather than eating his food, are well on their way to crossing the line from tipsy to drunk. Especially Albus, who rarely drinks heavily but is on his fourth glass of alcohol, which wouldn’t be so bad except when the waiter came around Albus clearly panicked, because instead of his usual Carling, he’d asked the waiter to bring him a pint of Theakstons Old Peculiar just like his dad. It’s times like these Scorpius has to resist the urge to laugh, because for all Albus doesn’t want to be like his dad, he’s like him in so many ways—from the nervous way they both fiddle with their napkins to the way they hold their drinks. Albus thinks it’s always about the way he looks like his dad, and sure Scorpius can see that—though truthfully he doesn't get the comparison since Albus is leagues more attractive than his dad—but to Scorpius the real ways they’re the same are in their temperaments, their distaste for bullshit and their inability to conceal their feelings. He supposes it's not hard to imagine what his dad must see in Albus’s dad.

James has been surprisingly quiet since his tattoo revelations before the food came, choosing instead to poke at his mashed potatoes as if they might be cursed as Teddy attempts, and fails, to make him laugh.

“Is anyone going to say anything?” Harry asks in a clear attempt at casualness once everyone has their food and has begun to eat in an awkward silence.

Scorpius wants to say something, perhaps to ease the nervous tension on his dad’s face or even just because he feels a bit sorry for the way Harry keeps looking at his sons nervously. Problem is, he doesn’t know what to say. It’s not that he minds really, he just wants his dad to be happy. It’s just that, well, truthfully, he’s a bit nervous if something goes wrong between them it might make things awkward for him and Albus, which feels selfish and entirely unsupportive. He’s sure saying he’s afraid they might break up and one day make things harder for him and Albus is really not the right thing to say. 

Albus hasn’t said a word, but Scorpius can imagine he feels the same way. It’s clear from the incessant tapping of Albus’s foot beside his leg that he’s nervous. Albus hates being caught off guard, and he really hates surprises. 

“So,” Teddy says abruptly, taking the last swig of his stout and squaring his shoulders when all eyes at the table turn towards him. “Looks like everyone at this table is fucking a Potter.”

Several things happen at once. James drops his fork to the floor with a clatter and Harry's eyes go comically wide as he looks at Albus, who throws up his hands and yells, “The only one fucking me is Scorpius! I mean...um— _fuck_ ,” before pulling his hood over his head and sliding so far down his chair it looks like he’s trying to disappear beneath the table.

“Who are you—oh. _Oh_!” Harry breathes, staring at James, who has abandoned staring at his food in favour of staring at Teddy with a look of surprised adoration that feels far too intimate for Scorpius to be watching.

Just when Scorpius is positive things can’t get more uncomfortable, he’s proven wrong by his dad deciding to speak. Scorpius shouldn’t be surprised; his dad always becomes loose-lipped when he drinks too much wine, and yet all the same, nothing could have prepared him for what his dad says.

“For the record, Harry and I take turns with the fucking,” Draco deadpans, lifting his wine glass and draining it in one go.

[](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/440679979236327428/452313070623129601/image.jpg)

Albus croaks, clearly giving up entirely and sliding out of his chair and onto the floor. James doesn’t seem to be listening and instead has, at some point, moved from his own chair to Teddy’s and has his hands fisted in Teddy’s hair as he whispers something that has Teddy’s hair turning a violent shade of bright pink before Teddy’s hands are on James’s hips and Teddy is sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. Scorpius definitely doesn’t feel like this is something he should be watching.

“Draco,” Harry hisses, but then his dad leans over and whispers something that makes Harry blush and his eyes flutter closed. 

Scorpius really, really wants to join Albus on the floor because this is just too much. But he thinks hiding under the table with Albus will hurt his assertions to his dad that he’s a grown up. 

His dad leans to the side, whispering something that has Harry exhaling a shuddering breath and whispering, “ _Fuck_ ,” at which point Scorpius gives up and drops to the floor, crawling under the table with Albus, knocking their knees together as he crosses his legs and seeks out Albus’s hands, which he’s hidden inside the cuffs of his hoodie. 

Of course hiding under the table turns out to be almost as traumatising as sitting at it since he can see his dad’s hand working its way into Harry’s lap and he can clearly see Teddy’s fingers making their way beneath the waistband of James’s jeans and moving lower in a way that leaves no question where he’s intending to put them. 

[](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/440679979236327428/452313077082226709/image.jpg)

Scorpius honestly wonders how they haven't been kicked out of the restaurant by now. 

“Merlin's beard, do you think that's what we’re going to be like when we’re they’re age?” Albus mumbles, nodding towards their parents and leaning closer to Scorpius. His cheeks are flushed from drinking too much, his bottom lip red from nervous chewing, and there’s something unquantifiable about the way he’s looking at Scorpius—almost as if Scorpius is everything he’s ever wanted. Scorpius wants him so much his chest aches.

“What do you mean?” he questions.

Albus scoots even closer, practically crawling into Albus’s lap with his face just inches away. “Well, we look like them a bit, don’t we? And they’re...well, they’re old but they’re clearly still randy as fuck. You think that’s what we’ll look like, pawing at each other when we’re almost fifty in the middle of a restaurant?”

A buzzing noise fills Scorpius’s ears as he watches Albus, takes in the three miniscule freckles on his left eyelid and the impossible curl of his long eyelashes, takes in the sharp arch of his nose and the closeness of his soft lips. Albus wants to keep kissing him, wants to kiss him until they’re old.

“You want to kiss me that long?” Scorpius finds himself asking, breath ragged as he drags his thumb across Albus’s bottom lip.

Albus makes a contented sigh, darting his tongue out to lick along the pad of Scorpius’s thumb before grabbing his hand and kissing the inside of his wrist tenderly. When Albus lets go, his eyes are shining bright, his voice barely a whisper as he presses their foreheads together. “I want to kiss you _forever_.”

Scorpius gives up controlling himself and grabs ahold of Albus, Apparating them both straight into Albus’s bedroom. Albus falls back onto the bed with a laugh, looking around the room with a pleased smile. “Won’t they notice?”

“Probably not for ages,” Scorpius murmurs, climbing on top of Albus and linking their fingers, dragging them above Albus’s head and pressing him down into the mattress.

“What are we going to do in the meantime?” Albus huffs, canting his hips up to meet Scorpius and shuddering out a groan.

Scorpius’s hair falls into his face and he shakes it aside. “Remember that thing...that _thing_ you asked me to do to you last week.” Scorpius looks at him pointedly, hoping to convey all his meaning without having to actually say the words. Sometimes Scorpius feels like everything he thinks comes out in a jumble of words and other times not a single one will fall from his lips, but either way Albus always understands him.

Albus sucks in a breath, head nodding impossibly fast. “Yes,” he breathes out.

“Want to do it to you while you wear _this_ ,” Scorpius whispers, dragging his fingers down the front of Albus’s hoodie. “Just this.”

Albus chokes out a sob, bucking his hips and trying to pull Scorpius closer.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, and Scorpius laughs, every moment over the last few hours where he’d wanted Albus to himself and couldn’t have him crashed over him. He feels nearly crazy sometimes with his desire for Albus, the way he can’t get enough, the way he knows there won’t ever be enough moments in his life to adequately show Albus how fucking much he loves him. But he wants to try. Fuck, does he want to try.

“Still want to kiss me forever?” he asks, and he means it to be teasing but it comes out unsure.

Albus’s lips curl up into a soft smile, that kind of open, feathery-light smile that Scorpius knows Albus only ever gives to him. “Want to do _everything_ with you forever,” he says, leaning in for a kiss, “And definitely ignore whatever the fuck it is our dads and Teddy and James are doing.”

Scorpius laughs, returning the kiss and letting his hands slide under Albus’s hoodie. “Sounds like a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find [Goldentruth813](http://goldentruth813.tumblr.com/) & [Mzuul](https://mzuul.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are love. <3


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